


Cough

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 20:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17210084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Jack visits David while he is stuck at home with whooping cough.





	Cough

“How’re ya feeling?” 

“Bored.” 

David knew that he’d answered correctly, when he saw the tension go out of Jack’s shoulders.

“I heard you was sick,” Jack said, sitting down on the bed next to David. 

“I am. Turns out whooping cough is uncomfortable, but boring.” David scooted away from Jack. “And also contagious.” 

“I already had it. When I was a little kid.” 

That only got a nod from David. He was glad for the company, though. He’d been sick for about four days, and though he felt very far from death’s door, it terrified mama, and had kept him isolated and uncomfortable.

“You ain’t even coughing. You sure you’re sick?” Jack bumped up against David’s shoulder. 

“Wait for it. It sounds ridiculous. Don’t laugh. It’s not so bad right now, especially compared to when I’m trying to sleep. Apparently Sarah had it when she was a baby, and almost died, so Les has to stay away for the sake of my parents’ peace of mind.” 

“A bunch of kids at the lodging house got it,” Jack said. “But none of us is that little. Snipes ain’t havin’ a great time. Says he can’t breathe.” 

David frowned at that. Most of the older boys at the lodging house had already been afflicted with whooping cough in their youth, but it still went around every few years, when there was a new crop of young kids with no immunity. David, at a venerable sixteen years of age, was the only one over twelve to have picked it up. He wondered what evenings in the lodging house sounded like these days, and if he ought to have described his own cough as ridiculous. After all, he didn’t have the winter air, or really anything dangerous to contend with. He was comparatively healthy, and though he’d felt anything but grateful the night before when he’d been overcome by a coughing fit so bad that he’d gone from perfectly fine to vomiting on the floor by the side of his bed, he was okay. His sickness meant that he was idle, for the most part, and very thoroughly taken care of. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” David asked. 

Jack shrugged. “How’s Les?” 

“If he’s caught it, it isn’t showing yet.” 

“Good,” Jack said. “I’d take on that bug ten times if it’d keep it off of him and Snipes and the younger ones.” 

“Me too,” David said honestly, though he hadn’t thought of it like that. “It doesn’t work that way, though. It’s good that you can’t get it. That means that you aren’t likely to spread it to anybody.” 

Jack nodded tersely. “You need anything? Water or…?” 

This won a smile from David. “I’m not doing bad. If I’m thirsty, I can get up and get some for myself.” 

****

To David’s surprise, Jack ended up stopping in to his house every day after that. David had expected his friend to maybe check in once to see that he wasn’t in serious danger, but then get back to his normal day to day life, and concentrate on those who actually needed help.

That wasn’t the case, though. Without fail, Jack always ended up climbing through David’s window at around three in the afternoon, and always ended up staying and talking to him until about four. 

On the third day, David suggested to Jack that they might take advantage of him being the only person in the house, and do some things that only had happened surreptitiously, in alleyways and hidden spaces before. Namely, he decided, since Jack wasn’t likely to get whooping cough for a second time, they try kissing, and see if the luxury of time and privacy made it any better. 

It was also on the third day that David had his first major coughing fit in front of Jack, in the middle of kissing, actually, and ending with the characteristic “whooping” sound as his throat closed up and he found himself gasping for air. It was the kind of thing that was absolutely terrible for about fifteen seconds, faded to vaguely unpleasant by the time a minute was up, and was mostly forgotten within five. Jack managed not to laugh at the sounds David made, but he did laugh at the way he passed from slumped over, miserable, and so obviously sick, to kissing again. David didn’t understand exactly how the sixth day of his illness ended up with him asleep on Jack’s shoulder, but he had a sense that maybe he did understand the broad smile on Jack’s face when he’d woken up (It wasn’t simply because Mama had come home by that time and was offering Jack something to eat… that much David was sure of).

Other than coughing and kissing, Jack’s visits were mostly just a lot of talking. David was “the Walking Mouth”, and not without good reason, but there were days when he didn’t say much, because nothing much happened when you stayed at home, and because how long he’d get to talk before he started coughing again was unpredictable. 

There were, however, certain questions that bore asking.

“Why do you bother coming here every day?” David quipped, sometime around day thirteen. His voice was deceptively soft and light. Jack’s reply would be important.

“Could be because I like you,” Jack answered simply, and David was satisfied.


End file.
